


The Vital Ingredient

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Angel Wings, Comforting Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, First Kiss, M/M, Scared Castiel, Trust Issues, Wing Kink, Wing Oil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 00:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17591198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: An important spell calls for an ingredient neither Dean or Sam have heard of before: angel oil.Cas has to know what that is, and how to get it, right?But what Dean thinks is a simple ask turns Cas awkward and secretive, and it’s only once Cas is safe back in the bunker he feels able to tell Dean why.Turns out obtaining angel oil is a lot more complicated, and personal, than Dean knew.





	The Vital Ingredient

The last demon came at him, bellowing, and swinging the length of pipe it had scooped up from the floor.

Cas grunted as the metal smashed into his shoulder with enough force to crack bone. His entire arm went numb, his blade slipping from his now slack grip, and the demon grabbed him by the back of the neck and threw him to the ground.

Cas managed to roll with the fall, so that when the demon tried to stomp on him its boot came down on the cement floor and not his head. He used the impetus to come onto his feet, and then pulled his blade into his other hand using his Grace.

The demon was so enraged at his persistent survival that it didn’t notice Cas was once again armed, and rushed him.

It ended with red light sparking across its body as Cas slammed his blade into the demon’s chest. 

Once the body had fallen, he did a slow circuit of the abandoned building, but nothing else came running to attack him.

At least the local town was safe, now, and Cas went back to his truck, and sat there while his shoulder mended.

When his phone went, he pulled it one handed from his pocket, grateful it had survived the fight, and saw Dean’s name on the caller ID.

“Hello, Dean,” he said.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said. “Uh, you busy?”

“No.” Which was true; Cas himself was no longer occupied, though he suspected it might be another few minutes until the same could be said of his Grace, and he winced as a particularly tender spot slipped back into alignment before it could heal.

“Cool, so, we think we know how to find out what’s killing people out here; Sam found a spell that might help us track it down. There’s an ingredient we’ve never heard of, though; figured you’d know what it was.”

Cas massaged his shoulder gingerly, as the feeling returned down the length of his arm, leaving unpleasant tingles in its wake.

“I’ll try to help, Dean. What is it?”

He heard the rustling of pages, before Dean spoke again.

“Yeah, there it is. Sam says it translates as ‘angel oil’.”

++

Dean pulled the Impala into the garage, noting that Cas had made it back first. His truck was parked in the usual spot, and Dean tucked Baby in beside it.

He hoped Cas had a good excuse for refusing to come out to where he and Sam had been, instead of insisting Dean drive back here.

While he didn’t know exactly what was wrong, Dean hadn’t missed the angel had gone all weird on him as soon as he’d mentioned ‘angel oil’. And right after that, he’d said Dean had to meet him back home before Cas could be of any further help.

At least, he supposed, Cas clearly knew what the stuff was, and hopefully how to get it; whatever was attacking people in that town, Dean didn’t want to wait for it to find its next victim, though he knew Sam would do his best to keep it in check.

Climbing downstairs, Dean couldn’t see any sign of their angel, and that annoyed him just as much as Cas’s mysterious attitude over this, and his pushing for Dean to drive all the way back to the bunker before Cas would say any more.

“Hey, you here?” His voice rang out, and he’d figured Cas was maybe in the sleeping quarters (if Dean found him indulging in some ‘Netflix and chill’, he’d pluck the angel’s feathers) or in the dungeon.

“In the map room,” Cas said.

He sounded…. He actually sounded scared, which had Dean draw his gun and move up on that room fast.

But there was no one else present but Cas; even with the lights turned down, Dean knew they were alone.

“You okay?”

Cas didn’t answer immediately. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry I made you come all the way back here.”

“Well, I’m not going to say it’s okay,” Dean said, because, while he didn’t want to be a dick about it, he’d just driven four hours and had to leave Sam alone back there because Cas had gotten his panties in a twist over _something_.

It was hard to be too mad at him, though, because Cas was definitely upset.

“I just…. It’s difficult to explain.”

Dean felt his patience wearing thin. “Maybe try?”

Cas motioned to the room around them. “If we’re going to do this, it had to be someplace I knew I’d be reasonably safe.”

Dean waited, to see if Cas would add something that would bring some sense to all of this, but the angel seemed suddenly lost in thought.

“Cas, what the hell is going on?”

He was the one speechless, though, when Cas suddenly took off his coats, and tugged his tie loose enough to pull it over his head, and then started on his shirt.

“Woah, woah, okay, Magic Mike. Let’s back this up, alright?”

Cas shot him a look of frustration. “You wanted to know about angel oil, about how to get it,” he said.

“Yeeaaahhh,” Dean said. He made ‘move on’ gestures with his hands, probably not constructive, but this was like getting a tooth pulled. “So?”

Cas finished undoing the last button, then took the shirt off and set it aside. He glanced once at Dean, and he looked so uncomfortable that Dean wanted to punch whoever had caused that.

Expect he had a feeling it was him.

Then the air felt suddenly charged, like a thunderstorm had rolled right into the room, and the lights flickered, and Dean felt…

He felt like, once again, he was getting a glimpse of something he just wasn’t fit to see, something that made him feel small, and human, and as important in the grand scheme of things as a single grain of sand on a beach.

Cas’s wings, and yes they were battered, and broken, but still holy fuck Dean wanted to drop to his knees at the sight of them, flared out on either side of the angel.

They weren’t shadows this time; they were actual wings, jet black and shimmering, and Dean could very much imagine Cas soaring into battle on them.

“Cas,” he said, but the words got locked in his throat.

“This is where I’ll need your help.”

++

It wasn’t easy to explain it to Dean. Not so much the physical aspect of it, which had the hunter looking more than a little nauseous, but the rest.

He knew he’d angered Dean by refusing to come out to meet them, but it just wasn’t possible.

Doing this at all, outside of Heaven, was a big enough ask. And, even though Cas trusted the brothers with his life, he had to do everything he could to avoid making this any more daunting than it would be anyway.

He could tell Dean didn’t fully understand though, and that didn’t help Cas much. Once they started, he would be in Dean’s hands, unable to give Dean any further guidance, or instruction, unable to do much of anything except yield to the hunter, and trust in Dean to keep him safe.

Even if Dean hurt him, Cas wouldn’t be able to stop him.

But people were dying, and the spell Dean had repeated to him would need the oil to work, so really there was no other option.

He sat straddling one of the chairs, forcing his wings to stay extended. They were trembling, and he could feel the hesitation that was causing in Dean.

“Look, Cas,” he started.

Cas couldn’t look around at him, because he knew if he did he’d baulk at what Dean was going to do.

“Please, Dean,” he said. “The longer you put it off, the harder it’s going to be.”

He heard Dean make a low unhappy sound, and then Dean’s fingers were in his wings.

Cas hissed, causing Dean to stop, but when he didn’t make any further sound, he felt Dean’s fingers edging their way through his feathers.

The oil glands were situated just before the spot where his wings joined his back, nestled there beneath a cushioning, protective clump of feathers.

Cas found himself holding his breath as Dean found the place, and let his hands linger there, as if hoping Cas would get used to being touched.

“Please,” he said again, “Dean, please, just…”

Dean’s fingers closed over the glands, working them gently, pressing and squeezing, rubbing the tender flesh between them, and Cas felt his whole body go limp.

He started to slump out of the chair, but Dean caught him, giving a panicked cry. 

“Cas!””

The moment Dean’s hands moved, though, the hunter’s arms wrapping around his chest to hold him up, Cas felt his body gradually recovering.

He clutched at Dean’s arms, unashamedly seeking the reassurance of his human’s touch.

“What the hell was that?” Dean demanded.

Cas knew he should sit up, pull away, but Dean was a rock behind him, and Cas was grateful for his strength.

“I tried to tell you,” he said, and felt Dean bristle at what he undoubtedly interpreted as an accusation. “When someone touches us...there…. Our bodies react.”

“That’s some reaction.” Dean pushed him upright, and stepped back a little, though Cas could tell he’d stayed close enough in case there was another zoning out phase. “Look, is there any other way to get this oil?”

Cas shook his head. “None that I know of.”

Dean reached out to pat his shoulder. “Do you think you can go again?”

No, in truth, he didn’t. But he didn’t want to disappoint Dean, who he’d made come back here, and he didn’t want to leave Sam alone and vulnerable, and he didn’t want anyone else dying because he couldn’t overcome a peculiarity of angel biology.

He nodded, unwilling to speak when he knew Dean would hear the truth in his voice, but as soon as Dean’s hands came into contact with his wings, and he felt his body go lax on him again, Cas wrenched forward like Dean’s touch was acid.

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean said, but there was no heat there, no recrimination.

Cas slumped over the back of the chair, and buried his face in his hands. What was wrong with him? He was safe, in the bunker, with Dean, behind a locked door, and enchanted walls.

Dean wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

But he couldn’t quieten the dark little voice that asked _if he was sure_.

He got up and when he turned to face Dean he could see how Dean felt about this. That maybe he didn’t understand all of it, but Cas’s reaction he was taking as a lack of trust.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said. “I do...I do trust you, Dean.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Dean said. “But Cas, if you can’t do this…. If you don’t want to…”

“Try to understand,” Cas pleaded. “I will be completely dependant on you. When our glands are milked, it causes a reaction that...disconnects us from reality, in a way. I’ll be aware of everything, but able to do very little about it.

“This is why this only happens in Heaven, Dean, among other angels, and even then only among angels of your own flock.”

Dean muttered something under his breath, but Cas could clearly make it out; he’d said that he doubted Cas had anybody in his flock he could trust either.

He wasn’t wrong, not really; Cas’s flock had consisted of Gabriel, and Uriel, and Balthazar. One had abandoned him, one had betrayed and tried to kill him, and another had faked his death in order to operate a black market for heaven’s armoury.

Maybe the fact that no one had touched Cas so..intimately...in a very long time wasn’t helping.

He looked to Dean, and could see the hunter was just as torn over this as Cas was himself, but then Dean’s expression turned determined.

“It’s a safety thing, huh. A trust thing.”

“It’s not that simple,” Cas insisted. He didn’t want Dean thinking that he didn’t trust him, but it wasn’t that simple either.

“I get it,” Dean said, quietly. He grabbed the chair Cas had been sitting on, and turned it around so it faced the right way again.

Then he settled down in it and offered Cas his hand.

“C’mon, angel,” he said. “Maybe we just need to try a different way.”

++

Dean didn’t rush anything. He held himself still as Cas settled into position, one knee on either side of Dean’s thighs, and holy hell Dean had done a million awkward things in his life but nothing came close to being straddled by a half naked angel.

_His_ half naked angel.

The angel he had yet to (and didn’t even intend to) admit his feelings for were more than platonic, or even fraternal.

He’d be lucky if he got through this without his body giving him away, but it helped (and he felt immediately guilty for the thought of it) that Cas was trembling, and clearly not much more comfortable than before.

Dean looked up at him, and Cas looked fear stricken. He didn’t know why he did it, since it was such a crossing of the lines his head was screaming at him, but his heart ached to see Cas so scared.

He reached up, and cupped Cas’s face. 

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, Cas. I’m not gonna hurt you, and nothing else is either. We’ll do this, and it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

Cas nodded, and Dean figured he’d said what he could; now it was time to actually show Cas.

With the angel seated like this, Dean could no longer see the glands, so he had to navigate by touch and that meant going slower, being even more careful than before.

He touched Cas’s wings delicately, barely skimming the feathers with his fingertips, until he reached the glands. He ran his fingers over the swell of them them, then dipped below their feather covering, before gently pressing down on the sac.

Cas’s reaction was immediate; he whimpered, and his body turned boneless in Dean’s hold. He slumped forward, his entire weight coming to rest on the hunter, and his cheek thumping down onto Dean’s shoulder.

He made wordless hushing sounds, since his hands were busy, until the oil started to leak from Cas’s glands. He had a vial set up on the arm of the chair, and he managed to uncap it (awkward given his position, but he did it anyway), and held it beneath one gland, and then the other, until the container felt heavy in his grip.

With the lid securely on, Dean put it down, and then started to slowly stroke his hands through Cas’s feathers, like the angel had instructed him, so that Cas could slowly come back to him.

He just wasn’t expecting a certain part of Cas’s anatomy to come back first.

Dean froze as he felt something hard pressing against him, and he didn’t have to look down to know what (not that he could, with Cas draped over him like a throw).

“Cas,” he panted, because that was doing things to him, and he was not letting his body’s natural reaction molest his angel. “Cas, come on back to me, buddy.”

Cas made a small, plaintive sound, and Dean couldn't help but go back to petting him. It seemed to help; as soon as Dean had stopped touching him, the angel’s shivers had increased, but they settled again.

It didn’t solve the problem of Cas’s hard on poking into his thigh. That was a side effect Cas hadn’t mentioned, but maybe when it was Gabriel or Uriel or Balthazar, it was different.

For one thing, they were his brothers. And for another…

Dean almost didn’t dare to speak. Part of him wanted to try and ease Cas off of him, but he didn’t dare. He wasn’t that heartless, or that much of a coward, surely.

He whispered in the angel’s ear. “Cas. You with me?”

There was no verbal response, but Cas’s arms came up shakily to wrap around Dean’s shoulders, to hold on.

It wasn’t enough though. Cas still wasn’t fully out of it, and Dean had never yet had sex with someone under the influence, never even touched them, kissed them, and he was certainly not going to start now, especially not with his angel.

“Cas,” he said.

Cas shifted, and when he managed to sit up enough to look at Dean, his eyes were clear, his face alert. He was trembling, again, but something told Dean that this time it was for a different reason.

“I’m with you,” Cas said. “ _Safe_ with you.” 

He pressed his lips gently to Dean’s, the most chaste kiss Dean had ever experienced.

But, that moment, it was more than enough. 

It was everything.


End file.
